


Dying Like a Shooting Star

by aliscoles



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliscoles/pseuds/aliscoles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stories about Magdalena Trevelyan, a strange, complicated lock that the trusty dwarf of the Inquisition struggles to pick. In his journey to crack open the mysterious of the quiet, mysterious mage, Varric finds that his attraction towards her goes past idle curiosity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet Magdalena Trevelyan

When Varric first met Magdalena, he didn’t even notice her. He noticed Cassandra crashing into battle but not her. Even when the fight was over and he had noticed her, he stil didn’t think she participated in the fight. Varric wasn't sure how long he would have gone without noticing her if Solas hand't grabbed her by the wrist and half thrown her into the rift. Varric noticed her then, and winced as the girl’s arm was almost ripped out of its' socket as she was hoisted up till her hand contacted with the rift. That  _had_ to hurt. In the midst of his sympathy for her, he felt panic, why was Solas throwing some random mage into the rift. His surprise about knocked him over when the rift crackled and bent and then mended. Varric stared in disbelief and his eyes focused on her face and not on the miracle being preformed. Her nose wrinkled but she didn’t make a noise. Her self control is amazing.If anything was a miracle, that was. 

Now that he had noticed her, Varric found he couldn’t look away. Despite what the fickle crowds would claim later, Magdalena didn't look like she was delivered to them, by Andraste or otherwise. She looked like she crawled out of the Fade herself. Though, Varric’s eyes swept over her figure, it didn't look like she  _could_  drag herself out of the pit. At first, he thought he had mistaken her for an elf. Her stature certainly fit, Solas was _taller_ than her and Varric imagined that Broody and Daisy would be too. Her features immediately corrected him, they were too round and soft, plus she was missing the ears. His eyes were then immediately drawn to her throat. Varric remembered Solas’s half-mad ravings about it when Cassandra had drug her body into their holding cell. The mark attested that at some time in the past it had been slit. Solas claimed to have fixed her vocal cords, though Magdalena hadn't woken up to test it. Varric had been surprised that if they could be healed, why nobody had done anything previously. He doubted the girl would speak, but he was yet again proven wrong. 

“ _Magdalena”_  she introduced, after Varric did his dramatic introduction where he endevoured to hide that her whole presentation and existence had him a bit ruffled. Now that he was done looking at her, Varric began to look _at_ her. She looked tired, and haggard. She was half-leaning on her staff for support. Her hair closely resembled a bird’s nest, the color was even reminiscent of a blackbird’s wing. Her skin was covered in soot and soot stained snow. Her finger nails were nearly black. Knowing that she climbed out of the Fade, Varric was happy in his ignorance of what had blackened them. Magdalena didn't offer to shake hands like Varric almost expected - though to be fair, he doesn’t know what to expect from her. 

The name fits though, Varric recognized the name. Magdala is a small straight that lead out to the ocean in the Free Marches. Varric guessed that she must have been born, or conceived maybe (depending on how bold her parents were) around there. Or maybe she named herself like Anders. It was hard to tell with mages. Her eyes were the color of the ocean; it was a good name. Not that anyone called her by it. Varric didn't either. If she were going to be executed, which was the only future Varric saw for her outside of her dying on their mission up to the big rift, it was better not to get attached. 

Magdalena had a strange presence. She could make you focus solely on her or make you forget she was even there. Varric had to keep an eye on her or else he found himself forgetting that she was even in the party at all. It was a strange gift for a mage to have. Mages always seemed to have some sort of aura of power or danger around them, an aura that most cultivated and few could escape from. The closest mage that Varric could match her to was, strangely, Solas, though Varric doubted the elven apostate would take kindly to being compared to a Circle mage. The only difference was Varric never forgot Solas in battle, even though the enemies never seemed to know he was coming. Magdalena, on the other hand, could fade from his mind entirely in battle. If she fought with them, Varric never noticed. After every battle, his eyes would search for her. She was never found very far from Cassandra’s side, though it was unclear which of them was pursuing that end or if they both were in agreement. 

It was strange, but Varric found that he didn’t want Magdalena far from his thoughts. It was uncomfortable having her around but forgetting about her. He focused his thoughts on her to keep that from happening. He wondered how long she’s been out of the Circle, and how long she was in it. Her eyes were old but her skin was young. He wondered how her throat was slit and  _why._  He also wondered if someone would go so far as to cut her throat, why her face isn’t marked more (and how she lived through the attack). There was also an unexplainable quiet air of dignity around her, something like what Hawke’s mother had before she died. Varric wondered if maybe, like Leandra she was a noble. Family protection would explain her lack of signs of abuse, except for the one near fatal one.

The one problem with his theory was that Magdalena didn’t  _act_  like nobility. She didn’t offer her opinion. She wasn't snobbish. She barely talked at all. It wasn’t until Cassandra and Leliana turned to her to make a decision that Varric put any weight behind his theory of her birth. He had been keeping his eye on her during the whole exchange and to be perfectly honest, he had thought she stopped paying attention to the squabbling as soon as it was clear she wasn't immediately going to be put in irons. Yet, when everyone's eyes shifted to her, her strange eyes refocused. She calmly but firmly made the decision without hesitation, “ _the mountain path_.”  To Varric's surprise, Cassandra didn't argue, though she didn't agree. There was something about Magdalena that made people want to listen to her. Varric found himself nodding along with her decision, agreeing, though Magdalena offered no explanation. The way she ordered hinted at nobility, somebody who was used to being listened to and making decision, but wouldn't a real noble gone for the path that had fame and glory? Instead of charging bravely into battle, Magdalena had ordered them to climb up old, rarely used ladders and wade through waist-deep snow. 

Nobles too, wouldn't be used to hard labor, though neither would a sheltered Circle mage. Yet, when Magdalena's fingers blistered under the stress of their steep and difficult climb, she didn't complain. Varric didn’t even notice until Solas suddenly grabbed her by the wrist after a battle. Solas clucked his tongue like a mother hen, making Varric turn to see what the fuss was about. The sight made Varric whistle, “You can say something about that, you know. Solas is pretty nifty with a healing spell. He’s invested a lot of effort into keeping you running till we make it to the rift. You shouldn't let that go to waste.” Magdalena didn’t protest about Solas manhandled her, and when Varric addressed her, she turned her eyes down to him and just nodded her head. Varric tilted his head. She wasn’t very expressive. 

Nothing seemed to be able to make her complain. Not about the bitter cold. Not the snow that looked that it was seeping through her near ruined boots. Not exhaustion from the long climb and endless walking and fighting. Varric tried to determine if it was willpower or if all the will had been beaten out of her. It wasn't easy to decide. Maybe she wanted to die? Frustration mounted in Varric as he found himself getting attached to her. Varric wanted to believe she blew up the Temple of Sacred Ashes. He wanted to believe that she was Anders, a pretty face but dangerous below the surface. But the more he watched her, the less he saw Anders's Justice possessed eyes peaking out of her abnormally light eyes. Over the space of a few hours, Varric found himself believing in her. He couldn’t believe Magdalena had anything to do with the explosion.

His beliefs were confirmed at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Cassandra seemed mildly surprised but Varric had noticed the slow, grudging trust she put in Magdalena. Then there is a giant demon to contend with. Then Magdalena is on the ground. Solas beat Varric to her side but only because he was closer. At first, Varric was sure that she was dying or already dead. Varric was already cursing himself for this child’s death. She was another broken mage in the wrong place at the wrong time and it’s  _his_ fault. 

Then he noticed her chest, and his eyes lingered more than they should. But it was moving softly and Solas’s glowing green hands were running over her battered and bruised body. She's going to live, Varric realized. Then he wondered if that was a good thing. She was the key to whatever was happening, guilty or not. Death might be a release for her. Someone like Cassandra would use her like a battering ram to accomplish what they needed to accomplish, regardless of the damage done to the marked mage. And Varric was beginning to suspect that Magdalena would let her. 


	2. Ferris Wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition makes the mistake of visiting Orlais during a festival. Encouraged by The Iron Bull and Dorian to ride one of the attractions, Magdalena and Varric find out quickly that Orlaisian workmanship leaves much to be desired. Varric learns that he isn’t the only story teller.

Magdalena blinked twice as she stared at the market place of Val Royeaux. With the exception of the army the Inquisition assembled to handle Adamant Fortress, Magdalena couldn’t think of the last time she had seen so many people in one place. Her mouth twisted and her brows furrowed. Magdalena’s hand caught Dorian’s sleeve. The tall Tevintar mage turned his eyes down at his kinswoman and leader, “Hmm?” He hummed, always finding Magdalena’s quiet ways amusing. Her green eyes darted from his face to the crowd and then back, a dark eyebrow arching magnificently in question. Magdalena, Dorian mused, had certainly mastered displaying emotions clearly on her face. A useful skill for deception.

“It’s Satinalia, Magdalena,” Dorian whispered, leaning his head down towards her ear. Magdalena looked straight ahead, observing the festivities. Dorian felt his lips twitch at the way her eyes flickered to his at his use of her real name. Dorian internally rolled his eyes at Magdalena’s emphasis on propriety. They were cousins (second or third, or something like that, but Dorian preferred to think of the small mage as his cousin). Surely if anyone could refer to her by her first name it was him?

“Have you ever been to a festival?” Dorian asked. He still didn’t understand how the Circles outside of Tevintar worked. Vivinne painted them positively - though Dorian still saw the gilded cage. Solas bastardized them, but he bastardized  _everything_. Magdalena didn’t talk about it at all, but the whispers about the mark on her throat did all the talking for her.  

Magdalena shrugged her shoulders, “Nothing like this…” she said in her raspy voice. Dorian frowned slightly and glanced around at their companions. The Iron Bull’s eyes gleamed with mischief that would probably be entertaining. Varric likewise looked excited.

“You know, your Inquisitorialness,” Varric said with a sly smile, “I doubt we’ll get far in our investigation with this festival going on.”

“Yeah, boss,” the Iron Bull put in quickly, “We might as well enjoy the festival!”

Magdalena gave a sigh and shrugged her shoulders. Varric cheered and the Iron Bull clapped the small mage on the shoulder, “Way to go, boss!” A small smile tugged on the serious girl’s lips.

“So….” everyone looked around, feeling a bit lost, “How do we celebrate this festival?” Varric asked, voicing everyone’s thoughts. Everyone’s eyes gravitated to the Iron Bull, who seemed to have a rudimentary knowledge of  _everything._

“Why are you all looking at me?” The Iron Bull asked, “I’ve spent the better half of the last decade in Seheron!”

Everyone sighed, their shoulders falling in sync. Dorian piqued in, “Well it’s not like I’m going to know how you foreigners celebrate your festivals?”

Magdalena shrugged when everyone’s eyes then turned to her. Varric sighed loudly, “In Kirkwall,  you wore masks. They crowed a fool as ruler for a day - except we didn’t do that after the Qunari’s failed invasion, no Viscount to take the title back. This place just seems to be the same thing but on grander scaler.”

“Right!” The Iron Bull clapped his hands, “First things, masks!”  

The group headed over to the first vendor that sold masks and started browsing. The Iron Bull of course, found a dragon mask right away. It was gaudy, all reds and yellows, bold. Despite that it was very interesting, and in some ways a little frightening. It suited the Iron Bull very nicely.

For Dorian, a full face mask was out of the question, as it would obscure “his natural beauty”. He chose, in Magdalena’s opinion, a rather strange domino mask. Catching Magdalena’s curious look, Dorian was very quick to launch into a long winded, though excited, explanation about how it was supposed to have been inspired by an ancient god. He continued to explain the nature of the old god until Magdalena pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her finger to his lips. Dorian chuckled. He wanted to at least to pretend to be put out, but Magdalena’s rather cute way of shutting him up was hard to ignore. The serious girl could be oddly cute in her own way.

Varric also picked a domino mask. His was made out of red silk and while it didn’t represent anything, it looked like he was trying to imitate a bandit. The king of the bandits.

Magdalena for her part browsed quietly, nothing really catching her eyes. “Hey, Inquisitor,” Varric said trying to get her attention. Magdalena turned around and looked down. Varric held up a mask, shaking it slightly, “Try this?” He suggested.

Magdalena took the mask, inspecting it. It was a feathered mask, made with white features. It came down into a darker patch by the nose, which appeared to be the ‘beak’. The mask winged out slightly but not enough to be troublesome or annoying. She nodded her head, it was pretty.

“Do you inspect everything with that level of gravitas?” Varric asked wryly, smirking up at Magdalena. A dark eyebrow arched and then she slipped the mask onto her face, deftly tying the strings in the back. She held up her hands, gesturing to the mask. ‘see, I’m wearing it, happy?’ the gesture seemed to say.

“Ah, I was right. You look love- pretty nice,” Varric coughed into his fist. Both of Magdalena’s eyebrows rose, unseen from underneath her mask. She turned and set money down on the table to pay for all the masks.

“This is going to be great, boss!” The Iron Bull exclaimed, gathering them into his arms in a group hug that only Varric managed to escape.

Team Inquisitor walked around the festival. There were lots of games set up, all of which the Iron Bull insisted on trying, and won. Magdalena was starting to wonder if they were going to need a cart for all the prizes he was wining.

Varric voiced her thoughts, “Geez, Tiny. Are you trying to pay the Inquisitor’s bride price?” It was supposed to a joke, but Magdalena detected a hint of bitterness that confused her. The Iron Bull and Dorian exchanged a look.

“Your arms look a little full there, m’dear,” Dorian laughed, scooped some of the prizes out of her arms.

“Yeah, you look a little tired boss, why don’t you try out one of the rides?”

Magdalena, who was getting frustrated with her mask because it was blocking her facial expressions, shot the boys a look.

“Have you even been on a ferris wheel before?” Dorian asked, hooking his arm through hers and half pulling her over to the ride. Varric was pushed along by the Iron Bull.

“Ha ha,” Varric laughed uneasily, “It looks like a death trap! Wouldn’t you like to get a bite to eat, Inquisitor?”

Magdalena half frowned, not understanding why Varric calling her Inquisitor bothered her when she was the one who had been promoting the formality with everyone else.

“Of course not! You wouldn’t deny the Inquisitor the full festival experience would you?” Dorian asked, sounding scandalized. Varric shot him a poisonous look.

“Besides,” the Iron Bull put in, a sly smile on his face, “The line for food will be around the block. We’ll get in line while you two ride.”

Magdalena’s eyes widened and she stared at the Iron Bull for a moment, “I thought the four of us…” she trailed off and glanced at Varric then away, “No.”

Varric flushed, “Don’t worry about it Inquisitor, the ferris wheel is a lot of fun!” He grabbed her hand and dragged her the rest of the way.

The two took a seat across from each other. Varric arms were crossed over his chest and Magdalena was fairly sure he was pouting. Varric looked down as their cart moved up in the air, so the others could get on. Not out of the cart but the floor of their cart.

“I don’t know why you’d want to go with the Iron Bull,” Varric grumbled, “He wouldn’t stop talking the entire time.” Magdalena’s lips pulled together into a skeptical and amused expression.

“Don’t give me that look Mag- my talking is different than his!” Varric protested.

Magdalena’s lips parted in surprise, “You used my name,” she pointed out. Varric flushed, Magdalena noticed that he was doing that a lot today.

“Sorry, I know you don’t like that…”

Magdalena shook her head, “No, I don’t mind…I mind you calling me Inquisitor.” 

Varric froze, Magdalena could say the strangest things with the straightest voice. How was he supposed to figure out what she meant by that?  “Well, that’s a change of events…” He mused.

“Just you.” Magdalena added bluntly.

Varric gulped and his cheeks flushed, “Heh, warm night, am I right?” He stumbled over his words, feeling like an idiot. “You certainly know how to make a guy stumble, Mags.”

Magdalena looked away to hide a smile. What were they doing? Was this flirting? Varric had Bianca, whatever that dysfunctional relationship was. And, Magdalena rubbed her neck. Her fingers traced her scar lightly. Her last relationship had swore her off the experience.

The ferris wheel began to move and Magdalena tried to focus on the view, not noticing Varric’s focus on her. Varric stared at Magdalena. He needed  _something_  to distract him from the slowly climbing height. For a while now, since they had met really, Magdalena had been a puzzle to him. A complicated lock that he couldn’t pick. Unlike the others who loved to talk about themselves, Magdalena said little if anything about her past. All Varric knew was that she was nobility and she was from the Ostwick Circle. Everything else were theories he put together.

He couldn’t blame Magdalena for playing those things close to the vest. She had picked up quickly that she needed to be a symbol and had done what she could to further that. Even if she was dehumanizing herself. It was sad, she was spending her youth here instead of doing what young kids did. It was sadder than hearing about how Hawke spent her youth working for smugglers in Kirkwall.

Still, with her inner circle she didn’t have to be so formal. They knew she was a person. Varric frowned. Yet she wanted him to call her by her first name? Why him? And why did he like the idea so much? Why had he been so angry that Iron Bull had been lavishing gifts on her earlier? Varic’s musings were cut short as the cart they were in began to shake as they reached the top. It shook and then stopped. The whole ride stopped.

Magdalena, apparently having none of Varric’s fear of heights, peaked over the edge. “Something broke, it looks like.”

Varric’s stomach dropped. Magdalena tilted her head, “They put the brakes on. We won’t die.”

“Unless we die waiting.”

Magdalena shook her head at his theatrics, “We could climb down,” she said suddenly.

“What?” Varric’s voice pitched a few octaves above his usual tone.

Magdalena stood up, “Climb down,” she repeated, slower this time, “It’s not that far.” Varric caught her wrist, “No,” he instructed her firmly.

“Just me then. I climbed all the time back at the tower, I’ll be fine.”

Varric’s grip tightened. He stared at her wrist, it was so pale and dainty compared to his rough, tanned hands. “No, Marble.”

Magdalena froze at the nickname, “I can climb down and help them fix it…” She said slowly, unsure of her words.

“I’m not going to watch you fall to your death, Marble”

He said it again and Magdalena felt thrown off her game, “I won’t.”

“And if you make it and I’m stuck up here alone.”

“Ah…” Magdalena made a noise of realization, “You’re afraid of heights,” she recalled.

“Uncomfortable,” Varric quickly corrected.

Magdalena sat back down. Varric sighed in relief and released her wrist. He tried not to dwell on how difficult letting her go had been. He tried not to think about how they were stuck up here. That it could break at any moment. Or worse that they would be stuck up here.

“Blackberries.”

“What?” Varric blinked surprised.

“They’re my favorite,” Magdalena said, surprising Varric. Magdalena never volunteered information about herself, “Back at the Circle, we had a garden. A tranquil named Annabell tended it. She grew these blackberries. Before the Circle I hated them. Back at the estate we had a blackberry patch, it was for wine or to look nice, I don’t know. But they were very bitter and filled with seeds that stuck in your teeth. But Annabell’s blackberries were the best. I would sit out there and study for my tests and eat blackberries.”

Varric stared at her. He couldn’t think of a time where she had spoken more in one go, “Oh,” was his best reply. He could have punched himself in the face.

“What was the Circle like?” He asked. He wanted to punch himself, again. 

Magdalena shrugged, “People tend to let the bad soil the good. I did. Looking back, there were a lot of good times.”

“Like the blackberries?”

“Like the blackberries.”

There was a silence and as the time passed the calm that Magdalena had brought faded and anxiety began to return.

“We had festivals at the Circle too.” Magdalena said suddenly, “On the holidays all of the apprentices, and some of the mages too, would sneak up onto the roofs and we would have competitions to see who could create the most beautiful fire works. Weeks before the holiday you would see apprentices gathered in corners planning what sort of fire works they would create. Some of the more complicated ones took three or four mages to maintain them.”

“They let you do that?”

“Of course, everyone studied really hard before the festivals. Every spell, every technique was a way to improve our fireworks. Half of the year’s learning was done over those few weeks before each festival.”

Varric laughed, “You competed?” He somehow couldn’t imagine her competing.

Magdalena gave a bittersweet smile, “I was a different sort of girl back then. I competed every few years. Maybe once a year or once every other.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to win, so I waited until I had something amazing.”

“Did you win?”

“Every time I competed I placed, as it were. I won often but not every time.”

Varric laughed. Magdalena never bragged but she didn’t have too much of a problem owning up to her successes. He found it funny the way she stated things that would be bragging from others as simple facts. She was a curious girl.

The ferris wheel suddenly began to move and the two passed the rest of the ride down in silence. When it was their turn to get out, Varric sprang to his feet and rushed out. He did stop to hold the door open for Magdalena though.

“I could kiss the ground! I’ve never been so happy to see it!” Varric exclaimed, spreading his arms wide, as the two walked away from the now on deemed ‘death ride’.

Magdalena made a face, “I wouldn’t.”

Varric turned to her, “Was that a joke, Marble?”

Magdalena shrugged her shoulders, “No, I really wouldn’t recommend kissing the floor.” She said, her voice dropping in volume. Her talkativeness was ending.

“There it is again, you have some humor in you after all!”

Magdalena rolled her eyes, “I’ll ditch you in the crowd, dwarf,” she threatened with no real spite. Varric used it as an excuse to catch her sleeve. Magdalena hesitated and Varric slipped her hand into his.

“Try it.” He dared.

Magdalena looked away but she held his hand all the same.

“I know what you were doing back there, Mags.”

Magdalena turned and looked down at him questioningly.

“Distracting me…” Varric looked away and dropped her hand, feeling less brave, “Thanks… I know you don’t like…. you know.”

Magdalena grabbed his hand to Varric surprise and started walking quickly towards the food area where the Iron Bull and Dorian were supposed to be, “You know nothing, dwarf,” Magdalena scoffed, “I don’t like to see you scared.”

“I wasn’t scared!” Varric protested, feeling as if Magdalena was underestimating his manliness, “Dwarves just aren’t meant to be that high off the ground.”

Magdalena gave him a look, “Of course.” Varric sighed loudly. At least he knew that his secrets were safe with Magdalena. As long as she didn’t get into another talkative mood.


	3. Harp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write Magdalena interacting with Cole (then Varric refused to be left out) and I think I just channeled all of my angsty feelings after the nightmare fodder that is Nameless. Regardless I think I like how it turned out. Y’all let me know what you think!

Magdalena was surprised when she walked into her room only to find a very large harp sitting in the middle of it. Most girls would have exclaimed in surprise but her foam eyes just widened slightly. Her lips twitched up and down before resuming its neutral face.

“You’re so guarded, even here…” A voice said.

Magdalena’s hand curled into a fight a blue fire lighted up. Serious eyes found the source of the voice. Her first uncurled and the fire went out, “That’s because I never know when you’re going to come jumping out of the shadows Cole,” Magdalena said bluntly.

Cole laughed softly, coming in off the balcony, “You say harsh things,” he said, tilting his to head to the side, “But you don’t mean them.”

“And you play the part of a ‘kid’, but you aren’t one.”  Magdalena rolled her pale eyes and made the quotations with her fingers.

Cole laughed softly again, “You see everything, but pretend not to.”

“At least I have the decency to pretend,” Magdalena responded back, as coldly as ever.

“It’s not decency that keeps you pretending.” Cole pointed out.

Magdalena nodded, observing the harp instead of Cole, “It’s not.” She agreed, “And it’s not lack of decency that stops you from pretending…. well sometimes..”

Cole laughed again, “You talk more to me then the others, except Varric. You talk to him the most. But… you like, hearing me laugh?”

Magdalena shrugged dragging her fingers across the harp. It was very pretty. “You just… remind me of someone…”

“You’re too bright, you know I can’t read your thoughts.”

Magdalena hummed. Cole was curious and he couldn’t read her mind always, “I like having this advantage over you.” She stated honestly.

Cole blinked, “Do you?” He asked, tilting his way this way and that, “You feel like you have to have the advantage over everyone. You can tell Sera to leave whenever you want. Varric lied. Cassandra didn’t trust you. Solas is an apostate. Dorian’s from Tevintar. The Inquisition is paying the Iron Bull. Blackwall lied. Vivinne feels a debt because of your favors and because of what happened to you. You protected Josephine. You helped Leilana. You’re helping Cullen.”

“You help to be nice.”

“You do too, but you don’t at the same time.” Cole sounded confused. “You don’t trust anybody,” he realized quietly. In the silence between them it was loud. An accusation that hung between them.

A moment passed. And then another.

“I don’t.” Magdalena agreed, moving away from the beautiful harp.

“How can you…!- ah, you hurt just now. I felt it.” Cole stopped his accusation.

“I was once like how you think I ought to be.” Magdalena’s eyes fixed on Cole’s suddenly. He squirmed. Magdalena’s eyes were intense. She never made extended eye contact unless she had a point to make or wanted something. She never looked him in the eye long, not after they first met. She knew it made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t look away from those ghosty eyes.

“I thought people were good. I wanted to help. I was naive, foolish, stupid.” Cole recoiled as if he had watched her stab herself. “I learned. You ought to know, after what happened to you.”

“What happened to me…?”

“Or the real Cole you mention when you think nobody is listening.”

Cole flinched, “… I never told you…”

“I don’t know what happened exactly.” Magdalena admitted, “But I know the look of betrayal. You’ve experienced it too. I see it in your eyes.”  

“No - I.”

“You haven’t played Wicked Grace enough.”

“… what…?”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Cole stared at her. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” He asked.

Magdalena shrugged, “I can read people. Not the future.”

Cole blinked. He never knew what to do with Magdalena’s jokes. They always came out of nowhere. Like flowers in the snow.

“Maybe someday.”

“When you trust me.”

Magdalena scoffed immediately, as if she couldn’t imagine the possibility.

“It’s not because I’m… me…” Cole said, peering at her. It was her turn to squirm under his gaze, but she didn’t. Not on the outside. Magdalena never reacted on the outside anyway but the way she wanted to.

“You can’t imagine trusting anyone.”

“You learn hard lessons at the tower.” Magdalena shrugged as if it were nothing. Cole wanted to plant his hands on her shoulders and force her not to shrug. She shouldn’t act as if her pain was nothing!

“You remind me of my brother,” Magdalena said out of nowhere. Cole about fell off the rail. Only Magdalena could surprise him like this.

“My older brother actually.” Magdalena said, putting her hand on her chin. Shouldn’t she at least look at him when she was saying such things?! Cole thought flustered.

“It’s funny,” Magdalena said. Varric told him that people say that about things that aren’t actually funny, “You don’t seem like an older brother type but sometimes when I look at you I picture him. I wonder if he misses me. If he forgot about his little sister. If he had a good life. I… I used to hope he was miserable. I hated him for letting mo-my parents send me away. But, looking at you… I changed my mind. Now, I hope he’s happy.”

Magdalena sighed and sat down on her bed, leaning back on her hands, “Not that my hopes mean anything.”

“You shouldn’t say that!” Cole burst out.

Magdalena tilted her head and stared at him. She didn’t look startled but the tilt in her brow told him that she was waiting from him to continue.

“It’s just…” Cole flustered, wondering if he were saying it wrong. Magdalena wouldn’t forget like the others. No matter how hard he tried when they first met. She always remembered. “You… I see you praying all the time…. how can you say your hopes mean nothing…?”

Magdalena shrugged, “I used to hope all the time. I would hope that I would wake up and my magic would be gone so I could leave the Circle. I would hope that the Templars would never look my way. I would hope for letters from home. None of those things happened. Hopes and dreams are pointless.” Magdalena sat up straight and her cold eyes met Cole’s letting him know how much she meant it, “You have what’s in front of you. And you can’t even rely on that in the end. In the end, you have yourself. Your abilities. Your strengths. Your weaknesses. Your identity. Everyone else, maybe they’ll be there, maybe they won’t. Other people aren’t reliable. You could try your best to know what they want, what they feel… But you don’t know what you don’t know know until you do. People lie to your face. About stupid things. About important things. For themselves. For you. It doesn’t matter why. Every person I have met has always reaffirmed to me that at the end of the day the only person I can rely on is me. And the Maker,” Magdalena paused for a moment and Cole was afraid she would stop. She was slowly opening a door for him and he didn’t want her to suddenly close it in his face, “The Maker may not directly help me. But I know the troubles he sends and troubles he averts- he only lets me take on what I can handle. And I know that he listens. I may never see him help and that’s fine. But he listens. Nobody listens to you in the Circle- or out of it either- and if you talk to loud - they’ll take away your voice.” Magdalena stopped suddenly.

Cold realization washed over Cole and he stood up angrily, “Is that what happened?” He asked insistently. He bridged the distance between them, grabbing her arms. “In-no- Magdalena,” he asked pleadingly, “Did the Circle- did the Templars hurt you. Your throat….”

Magdalena looked away, “No…”

Magdalena didn’t lie, but this was a partial lie. It was confusing. “It’s a lot more complicated then that, and that’s private.”

“Everything with you is private, hidden away. But like forgotten toys locked in a closet they tear away at what’s inside you. You try to forget but you can’t not really.”

Magdalena put a hand firmly on his chest, “Cole.” She said her voice firm and clear in the still air, “Stop.”

“You said I was like your big brother.”

Magdalena’s face changed silently. Her own version of a pout.

“Then I will be someone you can rely on. I promise!” Cole insisted.

Magdalena clicked her tongue against her teeth, “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I-I’ll never lie to you and I will protect you! And the others will too! Like a family.”

Magdalena’s eyes grew wide, then they hardened. Cole felt his spirits drop.

“D-don’t say things like that Cole.” She said quietly, her voice cracking softly, “If we live through this, if we win, they’ll leave. Not all at once but eventually. But maybe you’re right. We are a family. Family’s after all, go their separate ways in the end.” Magdalena got up and went to the harp.

Cole watched her go. He heard a knock at her door and he rushed over to it before Magdalena could tell him not too. He unlatched it and then vanished.

Magdalena glared daggers at where he had been sitting but stopped when Varric walked in.

“Huh, hey Marble. You don’t look so hot, something happen?”

Magdalena arched an eyebrow.

“What? Is that an insult to fire mages?” Varric asked walking in. She was still giving him that strange look he couldn’t read. He looked back at the door then at her, “If you didn’t want me to come in why did you unlock the door?” The look in her eyes hardened. Varric held up his hands in surrender.

The look softened then disappeared, leaving him with her usual blank expression. He walked less confidently into the room, wondering what was up with her. “Is that a harp?” He asked confused.

“It’s a gift from Leilana,” Magdalena said simply.

“You play?”

Magdalena didn’t respond, the way her back muscles tightened was telling. With Magdalena you had to get good at reading the subtle things. Varric wouldn’t have notice that on anyone else.

“Did you haul that up here by yourself?” He asked, changing the subject.

Magdalena turned her head and gave him in incredulous look. Varric laughed awkwardly. The Inquisitor was tough but that was a huge harp and she was tiny. Along with that, somebody would have noticed.

“Cole did.”

“Because he knew you didn’t want anyone to see?”

Magdalena hummed in reply.

“It’s a beautiful harp. What did you do to win Nightingale’s approval.” Magdalena didn’t respond, “Is this about when the two of you disappeared?”

Her shoulders came up and then down. Varric shook his head, “You don’t always have to be so secretive you know.”

Magdalena turned her eyes and gave him a look.

“Or you can be secretive,” Varric responded quickly, forgetting he was dealing with someone who could have been Broody’s littermate. Magdalena turned back to the harp. Her hand extended slightly, drawing across the string. It made a beautiful sound. Whatever spell that was keeping her from touching the strings then broke.

Her fingers began to dance across the harp. Varric stood spellbound. He never imagined Magdalena to have this sort of talent. Her cold atmosphere and her skill for killing people. Varric felt guilty sometimes that he forgot that she wasn’t a machine. She wasn’t marble, like he joked. She wasn’t the “Ice Princess” like the Iron Bull and Sera liked to joke. Her face seemed to soften and become something real and human and Varric felt like he was both intruding and lucky to see her like this.

The music continued for several minutes and Varric stood watching enrapturing. He broke free of the spell when Magdalena’s fingers hesitated and faltered. Her face looked conflicted for second then it hardened and became unreadable, “I don’t remember the rest….” she said slowly.

Varric felt the sudden inclination to give her a hug but she set him on fire if he did that.

“Did you need something?” She asked.

He felt the another impulsive desire to say ‘you’, but refrained. “Nothing, Marble,” he shook his head, “I just wanted to see you.”

Magdalena froze again, staring up at him with wide eyes, then looked away. Varric laughed softly. She was so cute. “You’re very good at playing the harp.”

Magdalena shook her head, “I’m out of practice.”

Varric sighed. Magdalena was not the best at accepting compliments. “You hungry, Marble? Let’s go get supper.”

Magdalena stood up, “Alright.”

 


	4. AU: At Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> modern!AU. You meet strange people at gas stations at night.

He was just getting gas, or at least, he thought he was just getting gas. Varric walked out of the gas station towards, Bianca, his car that he named after his old love, that he had pored every ounce of love (and money) into since her namesake blew out of his life like a hurricane. He stumbled into a body that he hadn’t noticed sitting on the side of the curve that dropped down from the gas station to the parking lot. He about face-planted and dropped his drink on the person’s head, lucky he had a pretty good grip.

“Gah! Andraste’s flaming tits!”

Catching himself, he peered down at the face that was now peering up at him. _A rude face_ , since no apologizes were offered, Varric thought. It was a girl, a young girl, probably in college. Her hair was tucked back behind a purple hoodie and eyes that were an impossibly pale green stared up at him with curiousity.

She was a looker, but not in the traditional sense. A look from her froze him, turning him to stone. He was entirely under the mercy of her penetrating eyes. They bore into him like a laser and left him feeling a bit empty and cold.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

Varric winced, since Bianca, he wasn’t really going anywhere both figuratively and literally, “I’m just going.” He answered with a shrug. At first he thought he sounded cool, then he realized,  _Shit, I sound like a hobo. Oh, Maker. Am I a hobo?_

The girl didn’t seem to judge, she leaned back staring up at the night sky. For a second Varric thought that maybe she forgot him. Was the conversation over? Was he supposed to go? Why couldn’t he walk away just yet?

“Can I come with?” She asked suddenly, turning her eyes back on him.

 _Such an intense look_ , Varric said, freezing up again. He felt like an awkward school girl, which a man in his late 20’s shouldn’t feel.

“I have money.”

Varric’s eyebrows rose. “Aren’t you worried about your safety?” He asked. The age of hitchhiking was long gone.

“Should I be? Are you dangerous?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“I’m starting to question your self-preservation skills.”

The girl shrugged, “I’m Magdalena.”

“What?”

“I’m introducing myself. Traveling companions should know each other by name.”

“I never said I’d let you come with me,” Varric pointed out, feeling very disjointed from this moment. Had he gotten into a car accident? Was this really happening? The girl continued to stare at him with those eyes. They weren’t demanding. Someone who had already gotten their way didn’t stare demandingly. He sighed, “I’m Varric.”

Her lips twitched up, an almost smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Just because I told you my name, doesn’t mean I’m going to give you a ride.” Varric warned her. Her lips twitched again and Varric suspected, on the inside, she was smirking at him.

“You look hungry.” Varric said, instead. Maybe if he fed her, she would be satisfied and go away.  _Magdalena_  tilted her head to the side, “Do I?”

She didn’t particularly. She looked pretty good for a hitchhiker really. Her clothes were pretty nondescript but they didn’t look too worn, the colors of her plum colored hoodie and dark jeans seemed correct. Her shoes had dust on them, but they were out in the country,  _everything_  was covered in dust.

“Are you offering to buy me food?” She queried, bringing Varric thoughts back.

_Damn, I have got to stop spacing out. What is it about this girl?_

Varric nodded his head and Magdalena got up and followed him back into the gas station. Varric’s shoulders hunched slightly, wondering what the attendant must think of him. Buying what he came for then walking back in with some random young girl.

“Get what you like.” Varric said.

He didn’t expect Magdalena to take him up on the offer. She gathered a bunch of food and brought it up the check register. “Con artist,” Varric accused but paid for it without further comment. He didn’t think she was  _really_  taking advantage of him. The two of them went outside to one of the benches and sat down to eat. Varric sipped his drink watching her eat. Her movements were restrained, subdued.

“You don’t have to act on my behalf, princess.” He told her.

Magdalena froze, and looked at him, “I’m not pretending.” She said stubbornly. Varric wondered if she knew how cute she looked, looking up at him through her thick dark eyelashes. He wasn’t sure if he could put manipulation past this strange girl.

“Oh?” Varric said, rubbing his chin, “Then I guess you  _aren’t_  starving. You probably ate recently didn’t you? I guess you're not _really_ in any trouble then, you even said you have money, probably enough for a ride from someone els-”

Magdalena’s eyes narrowed and her manners dropped suddenly. She ate with gusto and force, “Happy?” She said, her mouth full.

Varric blinked staring at her before giving into his laughter. She was a peculiar thing. He watched her devour the mass amount of food in front of her. It stopped being funny after a few moments. Once it was no longer fun it was sad. Why was she so hungry? She said she had money? It was a warm summer night, and she was in jeans and hoodie that was zipped up. Except for the thick choker necklace around her neck, she didn’t have an accessories with her. He wondered where her self proclaimed money was? She didn’t appear to have a bag or a purse, and her pockets looked empty. He winced.

“How did you get here?” He asked.

“I got a ride from some guy. He was getting a little creepy so I gave him the slip at the last gas station then I walked here.”

Varric tensed,  _what? What the hell?! She narrowly avoided a bad situation and now she’s asking another stranger for a ride?_

“And you’re ready to ask another guy for a ride?”

Magdalena shrugged her shoulders, “You look different. That’s why I asked.”

While Varric didn't want to disagree outright that he looked different from serial murderers or worse, he wasn't really sure _how_  you could really tell the difference. “Why are you on the run, anyway?” Varric asked instead. He wasn't sure what sort of backward logic she would use to answer the question he really wanted to ask and he decided to spare his brain the trauma. 

Magdalena shrugged her narrow shoulders, “That’s personal.”

“Letting you into Bianca is personal.”

“Bianca?”

“My car.”

“You really want to know?”

“Not all of us can trust people without cause.”

“I have cause, the fact that you didn’t just say ‘yes’ is pretty compelling.” Magdalena sighed, noticing his stubborn insistence to know. 

“I had some problems. I was living with this guy and then I had to leave suddenly. I didn’t have time to prepare and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Is that enough?”

“Just some guy?”

“That really  _is_  private.”

Varric laughed at her hostile look. It was hard to look hostile while devouring a pack of chips. (yet she managed it really well and he hoped laughter would diffuse the situation, because she was actually a bit intimidating.)

“Alright, alright princess.” Varric froze,  _damn when did I give her a nickname?_  Now he was stuck. He had gotten a bit attached. Leaving her here on her own felt wrong. But what was he supposed to do, “Where do you want a ride to?” He froze for a second. He hadn't meant to say that. Why was he offering her a ride?

“Where are you going?”

Varric sighed, “There’s really no where you want to go?” He asked insistently.

“If I did, I would already be there,” she pointed out.

“Shit… that’s actually a good point, princess.”

She laughed. She  _laughed_. Varric stared at her. It was a  _cute_  laugh.

“I have them, occasionally,” she responded, with a sarcastic look on her lips.

Varric sighed and stared at the remainder of her impromptu meal, just a bunch of wrappers. “Alright, let’s go to Bianca. I’m heading for Kirkwall. My brother had some work for me there… I didn’t think I was going to take it but…” Varric sighed, this girl with no purpose was somehow making him find one.

“Kirkwall sounds fine.”

“Have you heard of it?”

“No but it has a nice name.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll change your mind.”

Magdalena frowned and gave him a sidelong look, “Well, you’re the driver,” She got up and followed him to the car. Varric sighed audibly, “I should have known better than to feed a stray.”

“Yeah,” Magdalena agreed easily. Varric sighed, another difficult woman. But at least Magdalena was interesting.


	5. AU:Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magdalena takes an unplanned trip into the Fade

Magdalena’s head spun in every direction. She couldn’t tell which way was up and which way was down. Everything around her was black. She felt like she was floating, but something was holding her up. Something warm. It wasn’t coming from any one place, but some sort of presence that wrapped around her tight, like how a mother held a child.

 _‘Where am I? Am I dead?_ ’ Magdalena thought. She tried to remember what happened by the near past was fuzzy. Her head swam when she tried to think about it. She couldn’t remember the ‘last thing she remembered’. She knew her name. She knew she was a human, a mage. She remembered her childhood. She remembered her Harrowing. She remembered when the Circle fell. She remembered the Conclave. She remembered receiving the strange mark on her hand. She remembered Haven. She remembered losing Haven. She remembered becoming Inquisitor. It was then that things began to get fuzzy.

Fragments of her time punctured her mind. Dancing at a ball with a mean, blonde woman. Then a short, kind dwarf who made her laugh, that was Varric, wasn't it? Varric by the fire side, crying, why was he crying? A war. A friend lost. Then she remembered sitting on an uncomfortable throne passing judgement on a friend. Hushed angry words with Solas, hoping Cole wasn’t listening. Running around Skyhold hiding with Sera. Sitting on Vivienne’s couch talking and having tea. Dodging a book Dorian accidentally had thrown at her while he was criticizing her library. A game of chess with Cullen.

“Hurts…” Magdalena gasped. The fragmented memories were like shards of glass, prickling  and piercing her skin, burning her mind and stabbing her heart. She felt liquid running down her chest. “Gck…” she gurgled, curling in on herself.

“Of course it does…” came a soft feminine voice, “You’ve been through so much, my child. Why don’t you lay down your burden?” The voice seemed to come from everywhere, echoing through the black warm void.

“Then… is it over…?” Magdalena asked, her legs uncurled and she stood up. Though standing in a void felt rather pointless, there wasn’t any up or down though her mind insisted that there was.

“That’s up to you.”

“Up… to me….?” Magdalena repeated confused, “Then I have to go back- gack!” Magdalena bent over double, the pain was electrifying, rushing through every inch her body and setting the hairs on her skin on end.

“Going back will hurt. Nothing hurts you here. You can stay and rest. You’ve more than earned it.”

Magdalena tugged at the ends of her loose, long hair, “I feel like I have to go back… but… but I can’t remember why.”

“If you can’t remember, then could it be that important?”

The voice had a point but still, Magdalena  _felt_ like it was important, very important.

“No…” she said softly, unsure of herself, “I’m sure I have to go back.”

“Then, let me make the case for you to stay. Then you can decide?” The voice offered kindly.

“Alright…” Magdalena agreed cautiously.

The black void parted, like the floor had just dropped out underneath her.

 _‘But there’s no floor…’_  Magdalena thought as she fell. She wasn’t really falling though. Her hair floated lazily around her as she was lowered into light. The light melted from yellow to green and then seemed to flow every color in between. The ground she landed on was a smooth but not slick, something alien to Magdalena. 

In front of her was a door, and it was open. Despite being open, Magdalena couldn’t see what was through it. It wasn’t dark and nothing obscured her view, her mind just simply  _couldn’t_  tell her. It made her nervous, but open doors in general made her nervous. There was something about the invitation to enter, the openness, the vulnerability. She always had to have her door shut.

“Where am I, the Fade?” Magdalena asked. The woman’s voice from before answered, but it wasn’t echoing. It was at her side. Magdalena turned to see a kind woman stood at her elbow. She had an ageless face, and something told Magdalena that that’s what she was,  _ageless_. She stared at her kind face. She was something beautiful. Something that looked completely earthly and completely unearthly at the same time. It was a paradox that shattered Magdalena and hurt her as it healed her.

The woman smiled softly, “I’m sorry, I forget myself. Are you alright?”

“You’re perfect.” It was a fact, not an opinion. Was this something she could become, if she stayed?

The woman laughed, it sounded like fireflies in the summer, waves on the beach, the sun on a warm day, rain against a window, a bed when you’ve just woken up. Comfort, safety, peace, and innocent joy. 

“This is the Fade.” The woman said, changing the subject.

“Who  _are_  you?” Magdalena asked insistently. The woman smiled with a twinkle in her eyes.

“You know, you are a  _very_  special girl.” She seemed every inch as determined as Magdalena to avoid talking about certain subjects.

“I’m not any more special then anyone else.” Magdalena denied looking away.

“Not in your birth no.” The woman agreed, curling a finger under Magdalena’s chin forcing her to look into her ageless face, “You were made no less or more special then anyone else. But the actions that you have chosen along the way are special.”

“…I suppose…” Magdalena could not tell this beautiful, unearthly woman she was wrong.

“You can rest if you want, back in the void.”

“You said you would make a case, you can’t go back on your word.”

The woman laughed again, and Magdalena’s heart ached in way she was unfamiliar with. It was as if she was missing something she never had.

“I do not go back on my word, my child. I simply want to remind you that the hard path you seek while admirable, could end if you wanted. You’ve walked it long enough.”

“I do not understand. I’ve never sought respite.”

“It is not wrong to. You can rest.”

“Why have you brought me from the void to the Fade?”

“I told you, to make a case for you to stay. You can go through the door.”

Magdalena stayed quiet.

“Why are you so nervous?”

“I don’t know what’s on the other side.”

“You like closed doors. You can’t see what’s on the other side of those either.”

Magdalena frowned.

“I know why.” The woman said simply. 

“Are you going to say I should open up more?” Magdalena felt a little bit of guilt at her bitter and sarcastic tone but the woman only responded with a kind, indulgent smile.

“Life is painful.” 

“I know.”

“But if you numb yourself to the bad how can you ever hope to feel the good?”

Magdalena winced, because it was true and she knew it. It was hard when she knew something was true but every feeling inside her ached to deny the words, against reason. Anxiety, fear, self-doubt, mistrust in the world. Unreasonable, unfair to herself and others yet still crippling.

“You are worthy of love.”

Magdalena’s shoulders hunched.

“Clear your heart, child,” the woman advised, setting her hand on Magdalena’s shoulder. Comfort ran through Magdalena, spreading through her chest, until she tingled comfortably with warmth. The knots of anxiety didn’t leave, but suddenly Magdalena felt as if she had the room inside her to carry them. They weren’t heavy, they weren’t crippling. They didn’t bump into the walls of her stomach, force her throat closed, sit heavy on her shoulders. They were there and suddenly that was okay. Magdalena closed her eyes and then she walked through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are encouraging!


End file.
